


Old Man Winter

by theleaveswant



Category: Flashpoint, Texts From Last Night - Fandom
Genre: Breakfast, Crack, Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Multi, Polyamory, Queer Gen, Snow and Ice, Toronto, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-06
Updated: 2011-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 11:44:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/148892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/theleaveswant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed is surprised by the erection his sweeties have constructed in his yard one snowy morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Man Winter

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say about this except "I'm sorry"? I can't believe this is my first posted work for this fandom. See end notes for (spoilery) inspiration credit. Takes place in a hypothetical future where, after Ed and Sophie have separated, he moves into a smaller house and sometimes his sweeties stay over; Ed, Donna, Jules, and Sam are in an established poly relationship but there's nothing really 'shippy in the story.

Ed wandered up to the dining room window, mug in hand, looking up at the soft white sky sprinkling fluffy snow over the sleepy city. Beautiful. He smiled as he took his morning's first sip of coffee, his attention drifting gently as a snowflake down to his own front yard, then promptly spat that precious coffee all over the pane. He grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe down the glass, but when he finished the startling apparition on his lawn remained, undiminished.

He rounded on Jules, sitting nonchalantly at the table behind him munching toast and checking email on her laptop. “Are you responsible for this?”

Jules looked around him at the thing on the lawn. “As I understand it, these things just sort of happen sometimes. Nobody's necessarily 'responsible'.” Ed glared at her and she sucked a blob of jam off her finger. “You could say I had a hand in it.”

“Why? Why would you build that here?”

“Well, Donna and I—”

“Donna did this?”

“It was pretty much her idea.”

“Good morning,” Donna said brightly as she stepped into the room, fluffing her damp hair with a towel. Sam, on her heels, burst out laughing when he saw the erection in the yard, then fled to the kitchen in dread of Ed's fearsome expression—or so Ed would have liked to imagine. If pressed, Ed would have to admit that Sam more or less sauntered into the kitchen, still chuckling under his breath.

“Explain,” Ed commanded, pointing.

“Well, Jules and I woke up early. You and Sam were still asleep; we were bored, so . . .”

“Why didn't you just fool around and go back to sleep?”

“We usually do,” Jules said, “but this morning the snow was so perfect—you should have seen it, Ed, six wet inches in one night, all sparkling under the street lamps like powdered diamonds . . .”

“Okay, fine; you went out to play in the snow. How do we get from there to _this_?” He gestured emphatically out the window at the carefully contoured four-foot tall pillar of compressed snow thrusting proudly up from the middle of his yard. It looked like they'd gathered up all the accumulated snow from the lawn, the walk and the steps to build it, and it stood out all the more graphically against bared brown grass, covered only in the same light dusting of snow that had fallen since the sculpture's completion and graced its slopes like an icing sugar garnish, in contrast to the pristine white blankets in front of the houses on either side and across the street.

“What?” Donna asked innocently. Ed held his Vanna White pose until she shrugged. “It's the CN Tower.”

“The—no it isn't! I know what the CN Tower looks like, I can see it out my back window, and it definitely doesn't have a—and what's the lumpy thing there at the base of it?”

“That's the Rogers Centre.”

“Sure it is.” Ed scrubbed at his face with his hands. “And what exactly is the CN Tower doing in my yard?”

“Standing,” Donna said.

“Majestically,” Jules added.

“What? Ed, it's just a loving tribute to some of this city's most arresting architecture.”

“Donna, it's a snow cock.”

“No it isn't.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn't.”

“Yes it—trust me, Donna, I've lived in this country my entire life. I know a snow cock when I see one, and that is definitely a snow cock!”

“Okay yes, it's a snow cock. Your powers of observation are as sharp as ever.” Donna crossed the room and put her arms around Ed's chest. “I'm just entertained by the fervour of your indignation.”

“Yeah, what's the big deal? We didn't do it to get a rise out of you.” Jules looked at Donna and snickered, then pulled herself together. “We thought it would be funny, that's all.”

“The big deal is it's a giant ice phallus in the middle of my front yard and I haven't even lived in this house six months. I'm not sure that's the impression I want to make on my new neighbours, postal carriers, and waste removal workers.”

“I see your point,” Donna said, then buried her face in Ed's shoulder to suppress a laugh.

“It's really not that funny.”

“It's a little funny,” Sam said, sitting down perpendicular to Jules with a bowl of fruit, yogurt, and hemp hearts. “Come on, you haven't even cracked a smile.”

“I can't believe you're all acting so juvenile. Take it down.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Donna, Jules, you created this little spectacle, now you can dispose of it.”

“You want us to destroy it?” Jules frowned. “But it's beautiful!”

“It's made of snow, it's not going to last forever.” Ed felt Donna wince in probable contemplation of her proud, firm monument melting and shrivelling away over a matter of days or weeks. “I'd rather it was taken care of before the sweet old lady next door gets a look at it and keels over.”

“You should be careful,” Sam warned.

“Of what?”

“Sympathetic magic. You know when you create a thing in something else's likeness, you imbue it with energy and a power over that thing. Like voodoo dolls.”

“Please, you're not telling me you believe that stuff, not over a snow cock. And what 'likeness'? You think that's supposed to be someone specific?”

“It's not mine,” Sam said to his breakfast.

“You can't see yourself from that angle.”

Sam looked at Ed and repeated levelly, “it's not mine.”

“Fine. If you're so concerned about the magic voodoo snow cock, you can go help them un-imbue it. I'm staying in here where it's warm.”

“Hang on,” Sam said, and ran back upstairs.

Jules sighed mightily and pushed away from the table. “Smashy smashy,” she muttered to Donna as she followed her to the front hall. Ed watched them both kick off their slippers in favour of boots and pull parkas on over their pyjamas.

They shut the door behind them, so Ed couldn't hear what they were saying to each other as they trudged out onto the lawn. He watched from the window as Jules pressed her palms together in front of her sternum and then raised her arms to the sky as if she were about to commence a sun salutation, possibly releasing the spirit from their homemade Shiva linga, possibly just stretching. Then Donna set herself up for a roundhouse kick to the shaft and Ed found himself unable to watch. When he looked outside again, cringing, Jules was jumping up and down on the former SkyDome while Donna spread chunks of rubble from the tower around the yard with her feet. The mostly intact head ended up somewhere near the foot of the steps.

“I wanna take a photo but I couldn't find my phone so I—” Sam said as he bounded down the stairs, just as Jules and Donna came back inside, stomping their boots clean on the mat. “You finished without me,” he complained, and it was Sam's pout that finally broke Ed. He took two steps towards the kitchen and fell to his knees, shoulders shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

Donna knelt on the hardwood next to him, rubbing circles on his back and chuckling along with him. “You held it together for a really long time, there. I'm impressed.”

“Me too,” he wheezed.

“I was a little worried, honestly. I thought for sure you were going to burst something a lot sooner than that.”

“He's got stamina,” Jules contributed, and that set Ed off laughing again. “It's okay,” she said quietly to Sam. “We got pictures.”

“Yeah?” He brightened.

“Oh yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was 'inspired' by the TFLN post "We are NOT roofying him just to get him to pass out so we can build a masive [sic] snow cock in his yard."


End file.
